


Three stages of love

by DoctorFluff (Nikulka)



Category: Crisis Core: Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Bad Attitude, Gen's being an asshole, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rough Sex, Smut, some blood
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-05
Updated: 2016-12-31
Packaged: 2018-09-06 15:24:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8758378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nikulka/pseuds/DoctorFluff
Summary: The science of love says that there are three stages of it: lust, attraction and attachment. Genesis goes through all of them.





	1. Stage One: Lust

**Author's Note:**

> Oh boy… this is not exactly the fic I wanted to jump onto this ship with, but hey whatever!  
> This is so different from my usual style, but one’s got to try new things I guess? It is also the first work that I post in this fandom. Rated E, because I'm notoriously bad at deciding whether something qualifies as M or E, so just to be safe.  
> Without further ado: enjoy!  
> Disclaimer: I don’t own anything.

**Stage One: Lust**

On days like this, when Angeal was away and there was nobody to try to hold them back, they could let it all go.

  
Restraints left behind, strength at full display, swords swooshing through the air, spells flying.  
They danced, trying to find holes in each other’s defences. Not as equals, never as equals, but getting closer and closer to it. Still worlds apart, yet connected nevertheless.

  
Crashes and clashes, waves of hot air following explosions, heavy breaths, sweat trickling down their foreheads.

  
Masamune sang, cutting through the air, and for many a man it had been the last symphony they had a chance to hear before they were swallowed by the eternal darkness.

  
A hiss of pain, red, red blood splashing on a red, red coat. Genesis stumbled. Just for a split second, in a way that no human eye would have ever registered. But when the heroes fight, a second could have as well been an eternity. His back collided with the hard ground, and a cold, sharp metal pressed at his throat. 

“This one is for me,” smirked Sephiroth. “You are too slow to be a challenge.”

Despite his words, there was a flush at his cheeks and his chest was rising and falling quicker than usually, his lips slightly parted and _oh so_ perfect. Genesis took that sight in with a hint of bitter satisfaction, and closed his eyes, smiling weakly. A pressure at his throat vanished and a hand was extended to help him get up. He accepted it, albeit reluctantly, and looked at the man in front of him.

  
Adrenaline was rushing through his system, anger and hurt pride boiled under his skin. There was nothing that he wanted more at that moment than to erase the smirk from Sephiroth’s face, to claw at his smooth, exposed skin and make him bleed, to clutch at the long, silver strands and _pull_.

Even at his best days, Genesis was not really well-known for his impulse control.

Before Sephiroth could react, he was being pressed against the wall, and harsh, hot lips were crushing at his own, making him lose his breath and his head spin. He froze, pupils dilating, but it took him only a heartbeat to spread his lips and welcome an eager tongue inside. His mouth was filled with the taste of apples and copper and he knew that despite apparently winning the duel, he had lost a different, perhaps even more dangerous fight.

If asked, he would not have been able to count the number of times he imagined kissing Genesis, touching him, wishing that his long harboured feelings had been reciprocated. But Genesis was, well… Genesis. He would not dare to act on his desires, knowing that the other would use his weakness to hurt him.

  
The lips moved to his exposed neck, leaving the trail of kisses and bites along his jaw, and lower down his neck, and further at his collarbone and it _burned_. He gasped when a knee pressed at a quickly growing bulge in his trousers.

“Not here,” was all he managed to say, his voice shaking with almost painful need. He felt rather than saw Genesis smirk, and the man pulled away, licking his lips in the most obscenely seductive manner.

“My place,” he purred.

They managed to preserve just enough dignity to refrain from running, but their quick pace earned them a few curious glances from a few SOLDIERs they passed on their way.

  
When they entered Genesis’ quarters, Sephiroth paused for a moment to take in the surroundings. He had never been there before, but the rooms were a perfect reflection of their owner. Just like him, they were full of extravagance and style, kept in a dark tonation, burgund being dominant, broken only by the cream-coloured finishes. He smiled internally at the excess of fluffy cushions, pillows and blankets. If there was anything Genesis valued just as much as style, it was comfort.

“Are you planning on standing there and staring, or are we actually going to fuck?” asked Genesis, with more of a faint amusement rather than irritation, but his voice was low and dangerous. Sephiroth quickly took off his knee-length shoes and followed Genesis to the bedroom, both urgently discarding their clothes on their way.

The time for gentleness had ended, and Genesis pushed Sephiroth on the bed. He climbed on top of him and once again attacked his lips, more aggressively yet, biting on the other’s bottom lip, and tangled his hand into the silver strands.

“Gaia, you’re beautiful,” he whispered, pulling away to take an appreciative look at the muscular body beneath him. He leaned and licked at the edge of Sephiroth’s ear. “I want to tear you apart, darling.”

“Okay,” Sephiroth gasped, lost in the sensation. Genesis frowned and pulled, jerking Sephiroth’s head back, pressing it into the pillow, exposing the pale column of his throat.  
“Okay what?”  
“Please,” he groaned. “Please, take me, Genesis.”  
“That’s more like it,” he smiled and bit down at the flesh below.

With a hint of pity he thought about the enhanced SOLDIER healing. He wanted to leave his mark, to claim him, to give him something to remember and long for. He held Sephiroth’s hips down with his free hand, preventing them from bucking up.

“Now, now, easy,” he purred. “I’ll have you begging by the time I’m finished with you.”

Sephiroth’s hands clutched at the bed sheets, and he moaned, closing his eyes. He would never admit that, but he would allow Genesis to do anything to him. Being at mercy of the most emotionally unstable person he had ever known turned him on, and he almost wanted to laugh at his own lack of self-preservation. His musings, however, were broken by a sudden flash of pain when Genesis dug his nails into his hip and sucked at the sensitive flesh above his collarbone. The hot mouth moved lower and lower, through his chest and abdomen muscles to his thighs, carefully avoiding his pulsing erection. Genesis slipped one finger between his cheeks and rubbed at the sensitive flesh, which earned him another desperate moan from Sephiroth.

“Have you ever done this before?”  
“No. Not like this,” Sephiroth licked his lips. “Not at the bottom.”  
There was something unbelievably captivating in seeing Sephiroth’s willing surrender to him. Genesis had no illusions - had Sephiroth wanted to be on the top, he would have been, and there would have been nothing he could do to stop him. And yet there he was, sprawled on his bed, complying, eager, trusting.

He reached to the nightstand to grab a bottle of lube, and poured a generous amount onto his fingers. He did not waste time on warming it up, just pressed one finger inside him, a bit too quick, a bit too rough. Sephiroth gasped at the unfamiliar sensation, the cold intrusion, but relaxed enough so that Genesis could add more fingers. He bit his lip, a feeling of being stretched clearly odd to him, yet not in any way unpleasant, and soon enough he found himself responding, thrusting, trying to get more of the fingers inside him.

A sharp slap made his head turn to the side and his cheek sting.

“Stay still,” commanded Genesis, and Sephiroth trembled, obeying, dizzy with pleasure at being bossed around like that. “I want you from behind. On your knees and stick out that pretty ass for me, darling.”

When Sephiroth moved, Genesis scratched at his back, leaving red marks along it. Then he wrapped the long, silver hair around his left hand and without any warning entered the man beneath him in one, swift motion.  
Sephiroth moaned, losing himself in the sensation, pain mixing with pleasure. The feeling of having the whole cock inside of him was, well… new.

Preparing him was the only act of gentleness on Genesis’ part. When he started moving, he did not care for Sephiroth’s comfort in the least. He was brutal, and rough, and his thrusts were too quick to be entirely comfortable, but it was _Genesis_ , and Sephiroth could only moan and beg for more. His cock ached from the lack of attention, but when he tried to reach for it, Genesis pulled at his hair and twisted his right nipple between his fingers.

From time to time, one of the thrusts hit exactly at his prostate and the stars flashed in front of his eyes, and he wanted to cry, reduced to a babbling mess, begging for the release.

That was exactly what Genesis wanted, and with one, final thrust he came, spending himself fully inside of Sephiroth. Then he pulled out, rolling to the side of the bed, smirking, satisfied.

Seeing that Genesis had no inclination to help him, Sephiroth quickly grabbed his cock and jerked himself into release, coming with a quiet groan and collapsed onto the bed, too tired and spent to do anything else.  
For a while the only sound in the room were their heavy breaths. Then, Genesis wrapped himself up in a blanket and closed his eyes, and it suddenly felt as if a thick, cold wall grew in between them.

Sephiroth felt a pang at his heart, and sensing that he was not welcomed anymore, wiped himself clean with the tissues that were laying on the nightstand, and started dressing up.

“Was it a one-night stand?” he asked with trepidation, not really knowing if he wanted to hear the answer.  
“Do you want it to be?” Genesis lazily opened one eye and gave him a curious glance.  
“... no.” Sephiroth shifted, getting more and more uncomfortable, playing with the straps of his coat.  
“I don’t love you,” said Genesis, frowning.  
“You do not have to.”

Genesis hummed softly in response and closed his eyes, shifting so that his back was turned at Sephiroth. The General wanted to stay, wanted to kiss the pale, faintly freckled skin between his bare shoulder blades, but he knew that it would not have been welcomed. Instead, he sighed and finished fastening the buckles of his coat.

“See you around?” he said tentatively.

“Mhm,” came in the murmured reply. Genesis was, apparently, already half-asleep. With a clutch at his heart and another sigh, Sephiroth gave him one, final glance and left the room.

Genesis was like fire, and playing with fire always ended up with burns. He knew that he would burn again.


	2. Stage two: Attraction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stage two, in which Genesis is still being mostly an asshole, Sephiroth is tired and Angeal so done with both of them.

**Stage two: Attraction**

“I don't love him,” said Genesis. “We're just fucking.”  
  
Angeal groaned internally. Papers regarding a recent change in requirements in cadet training were piled and scattered all around him. Warning signs of an inevitably approaching migraine had already been tough on him since that morning, as he was hopelessly trying to write down supplementary guidelines for the programme and fix the schedule so that it could accommodate new mandatory courses. Genesis, sprawled on the couch in his office, loudly complaining about the state of his emotional affairs was by no means helpful keeping his focus on the task at hand.

“Really,” he murmured, attempting to convey as much disinterest in his tone as humanly possible.

“I mean, sure, he is gorgeous. Have you seen that _ass_?” Genesis smiled widely, apparently enjoying whatever images his mind supplied him with at that moment. “And he has that little glimpse in his eyes and a low chuckle raises in his chest when he is amused… And it’s kind of cute how he adds almost obscene amounts of sugar to his coffee when he thinks nobody sees him. And he always braids his hair when he goes to sleep, and I tell you, it looks just _adorable_. And…” he paused, seeing how Angeal stopped working and was looking at him with raised eyebrows. “ _What_?! It’s only physical, you know,” he huffed.

 

“Right,” sighed Angeal, clearly resigned. “By the way, shouldn’t you be working right now? I’ve heard about that large materia inspection today, I’m sure it includes a lot of documentation to be filled…” he changed the topic, in desperate need to be left alone with his work.  
  
“Already done that,” Genesis waved his hand dismissively.  
  
“Seriously? I have never seen you this productive, to be honest,” said Angeal doubtfully.    
  
“Oh, you know, when I finish work quickly, I have more time for all the little rendezvous with Sephiroth,” he grinned.

“Isn’t he out on an assignment now, though?”

“Yeah,” said Genesis, his voice suddenly quiet as he curled on the couch, hugging his knees to his chest. “He departed yesterday night, at two hundred.”

 

Angeal sighed again, looking at the ball of unhappiness that Genesis was. Truth to be told, he had noticed that Genesis’ productivity had increased since he started having this… whatever it was, with Sephiroth. No, more than that: he thrived. Not only in terms of work, but he also started writing again - a habit he gave up on when they both had joined ShinRa, the amount of work sucking the whole inspiration out of him. He had found his muse anew, it seemed. Angeal was happy for his childhood friend, of course, but…

 

But then, there was Sephiroth. And Sephiroth was a completely different matter. Angeal, being as observant as he was, had quickly noticed that the General had had a thing for Genesis since the time they befriended. He had never really shown it much, but Angeal got to know Sephiroth well enough and on most days, he could read him like an open book.  Genesis had been too thick and self-centered to notice, of course. He still was. But the truth stood as clear as day - Sephiroth had been hopelessly lovesick, and somehow sleeping with Genesis had only made it worse.

 

It could all have been seen in the small things alone, and somebody who did not know Sephiroth would not have noticed any difference. But Angeal watched, and cared, and what he saw was worrying him. Just the other day they were having lunch together, and the General did not look well. Dark circles had formed under his eyes, and his left hand trembled ever so slightly when he was raising the cup of coffee to his lips.  

 

“Hey. Are you okay?” asked Angeal, concern clear in his features and his voice.

“Hmm? Yes,” Sephiroth replied, gazing off into the distance, his eyes not really focused on anything in particular.

“Sephiroth. Look at me,” frowned Angeal. Sephiroth twitched, and slowly turned towards him. “What’s going on? When was the last time you actually had some sleep?”

“What day is it today?” he asked quietly, still refusing to meet Angeal’s eyes.    
  
“What do you mean…? Thursday,” the frown at his face deepened.

“Then on Tuesday? Monday, maybe. I do not recall,” said Sephiroth, lowering his gaze. “I have been busy.”  
  
“Sephiroth, you can’t just go on without sleep for three days! Even you are not invincible, you’ll hurt yourself if you keep up with this behaviour!”  
  
“... I am sorry.” A flash of guilt and pain went through Sephiroth face, but he did not say anything more.  
  
“It’s not about being sorry! It’s…” What was threatening to become a lecture was disturbed by the sound of Sephiroth’s PHS, and the man quickly pulled it out of his pocket to read the message. Then he stood up abruptly.  
  
“Forgive me, Angeal, but I have to go,” he murmured. “Genesis needs to see me, apparently.” He turned on his heels and left the cafeteria, leaving stunned Angeal behind. The man looked absentmindedly at the almost untouched plate of food left by his friend.  
No. Whatever there was in between the two people closest to him, it was not something he liked.

 

Genesis’ ostentatious sigh caused Angeal to snap out of his musings.

“I wonder when he’ll be back…” he said.

“Well, he has gone to Wutai. It can be anywhere between a week and a few months,” shrugged Angeal. “Shouldn’t you be happy? Technically, as the second in command you are in charge now. Isn’t it what you’ve always wanted?”

“Of course,” huffed Genesis. “But it’s not the same when he’s not around. It’s about being better, you know? I want him to be subordinate to me. Well, I mean, he can be so delightfully submissive in bed,” he smirked. “Does whatever I tell him to and looks so pretty when he sucks my di-…”

“Genesis, that’s enough!” groaned Angeal. “Just. Stop. I really don’t want to hear about this, okay?”

“Oh, _fine_ ,” Genesis rolled his eyes. “You’re such a killjoy, ‘Geal.”

Angeal just shook his head, coming back to his paperwork. Truth to be told, he was glad that Sephiroth was away. Sure, Angeal would need to deal with overdramatic and bored Genesis, but he suspected a little break would do the General only good.  
At least he hoped so.

 

The days had passed and turned into weeks. Genesis grew restless and snappy, and he started to take his frustration out on random SOLDIERs and cadets. Most of the time, however, he was settled on bothering Angeal.  
That night he marched into Angeal’s flat, his clothes ruffled, stinking of alcohol and men. He threw himself on one of the big, comfortable armchairs that stood in the living room.

“Who does he think he is?” he growled. “It’s been five weeks already, and it seems like calling and saying how is he doing is below him.”

Angeal carefully decided not to address that statement. In fact, Sephiroth wrote to him every day - or every few days, depending on the situation at the front - but he always made sure to let him know that he was fine. Just a word or two, being as verbose as he was, but it was enough. It struck him as odd that the General did not contact Genesis as well, but he supposed he had a good reason for that, and that perhaps it was for the best.

 

“You’ve been whoring around again?” he asked instead, wrinkling his nose at the smell.

“So what if I have?” huffed Genesis. “Honestly, Angeal, I don’t know how you can bear it,” he continued, without missing a beat, desperate for attention and sympathy.

“You coming to my flat in the middle of the night and stinking of very bad sex? Hardly.”

“You know that’s not what I meant! I was talking about what Sephiroth is doing,” said Genesis, irritation pure in his voice.  
  
“Perhaps he is just busy. You know how it can be like out there,” he murmured, dropping the subject of Genesis’ conduct. “Why don’t you call him instead?”

“Please, I have some dignity left, thank you very much,” scowled Genesis.  

Like hell you do, thought Angeal, but did not voice the remark. He knew that Sephiroth was coming back the next day, but decided not to tell Genesis about that. Had the man read the reports, he would have known too. Angeal did not intend to allow his negligence of duties go without consequences. He adored Genesis, obviously, he was his friend - but even his patience was wearing thin after weeks of listening to the sulking and constant complaints about the Silver General.

With the most resigned of sighs, he rubbed his forehead. He would need to talk to Sephiroth about that as soon as possible.

 

When Sephiroth did indeed get back at last, he wanted nothing more than to hide and lock himself up in his flat. He managed, however, to drop by and greet Angeal. Frankly speaking, his friend did not look much better than he did, minus the dirt and dust covering his clothes. He welcomed him with a smile, though.  
  
“I’m glad you’re back,” said Angeal, relief clear in his voice. “You look surprisingly well.”  
  
Sephiroth only nodded. Somehow, in many ways, Wutai had been easier on him than the past few months before he left. When he was on the run, and his life in danger, his mind stayed focused and clear, having no time for straying and brooding. Mostly.  
  
“You, on the other hand, look tired. What did I miss?” he asked, even though he already suspected the answer.

“Genesis,” groaned Angeal, rubbing his temples. “He’s been unbearable since you left. I don’t know what you did miss, but he certainly missed you.”

“Did he,” muttered Sephiroth, averting his gaze.

“You two should really talk this through,” said Angeal. “And I swear, if you don’t do this quickly, I’ll force you to,” he threatened.

“... fine,” said Sephiroth. “Just... not today.”

Having said that and receiving an approving nod from Angeal, he politely excused himself and marched to his quarters, wishing only for a shower.

 

* * *

 

 

He should have seen that coming, really, all things considered. All he managed to do was to wash himself, change into casual clothes, and he was just in the process of untangling his long, silver hair, when there came a small beep from the doorway after which the door flung open, and an aggravated, red haired figure rushed into the room.

“So the rumors were true. You are back,” seethed Genesis through gritted teeth. “Care to explain why didn’t you tell me?”

Sephiroth’s heart skipped a beat, and he turned his head to the side, hiding his face behind the bangs of his hair. His emotions, kept carefully locked up for the past five weeks, flooded him with a force of a tidal wave, overwhelming and confusing him. He did not trust his voice, so he stayed silent.

“Goddess, you won’t even look at me.” Venom dripped from every word. “You make me sick.”

 

In a few quick steps Genesis approached Sephiroth and pushed him on the chest. There was a flash of a sudden pain at the General’s face, and without warning, Genesis had been violently thrown away. His back collided with the hard wall and he slipped down with a low groan.

Sephiroth looked quite shocked and confused by his own actions and hurried to the redhead’s side, kneeling next to him, words quickly escaping his mouth.

“Gaia, I’m so sorry, Genesis, I didn’t mean to…”

“What in the name of everloving fuck is wrong with you?” asked Genesis quietly, his eyes closed, an unobscured bitterness coloring his words.

“I…” started Sephiroth. Then he lowered his gaze, and his whole posture screamed with guilt. After a moment which felt like eternity, he gave up on trying to find the suitable words, and slowly unbuttoned his shirt. Genesis only stared, his mind trying to comprehend what his eyes were seeing.

“You are hurt,” he stated flatly. “Badly enough to need bandages. What did you _do_?”

“I…” attempted Sephiroth once more, still not quite looking at the man he loved so much. Then he braced himself. This was his one and only chance at being completely honest, and he had to act on it. So he told him.

 

* * *

 

 

Sephiroth hated Wutai. The atmosphere was hot and stifling, and his leather coat was clinging to his damp, sweaty skin. He would have taken it off, but he had an image to maintain, ShinRa and their PR department be cursed. The bright light of the noon in the unfamiliar lands was hurting his eyes, and his pupils were constricted so much that they looked like tiny commas.    
“General,” A clearly exhausted Second Class SOLDIER - Luxiere was his name, Sephiroth recalled briefly - approached him. “It’s time.”

 

They were about to attack a small village that was unfortunate enough to be located on the path of ShinRa troops’ march. It mattered not that it was just a civilian village. It would be plundered nonetheless - they were running out of supplies, and they were going to get them regardless how much blood of innocent people would need to be spilled.  

 

Sephiroth nodded shortly.  
“Unit two, right. Unit five, left. Unit one behind me. The rest stays and covers us,” he ordered. He did not even need to raise his voice - his reputation made it so that his every word had always been listened to with the utmost care, without unnecessary questions.  
His decision to leave infantry behind had been motivated by the fact that he had noticed that they tended to have… troubles with fulfilling the orders to get rid of civilians. Mercy was not something that Sephiroth himself was capable of, and he wanted to make sure that none of his soldiers would hesitate even for a second. Being out of the time to waste, they needed a quick, violent action.

 

And so they attacked. The first few villagers did not even know what hit them, did not see the inhumanly fast SOLDIERs coming. And then, the screams and panic started.

Sephiroth was focused, and each and every one of Masamune’s slashes killed with a perfect precision. The General might have been ruthless, but not cruel - he took no pleasure in watching the suffering, and did not intend to make their demises longer or harder than absolutely necessary.

 

Sephiroth was about to cut the middle-aged man whom he cornered between the buildings in a half, when somebody got in his way, and he went still at what he saw. A red haired boy jumped in to protect the man that probably was his father with his own body. Not really a boy, but not a man yet, he might have been in his teens. But what really made him pause were the eyes, blue, piercing, filled with a sharp, fierce determination, and it reminded him of some other person, some other eyes, and he just _could not_ move his arm...

 

The next thing he felt was a metal of a scythe slashing through his abdomen. He automatically pressed at the wound, trying to prevent the blood loss, and when he raised his eyes again, the boy and his father were already gone. He watched, with some kind of morbid fascination, how his own intestines were trying to slip through his fingers, gravity working against his will. Then, there came pain, sharp and hot and nothing like he had ever felt, and shortly after - a blissful darkness.  

 

* * *

 

 

When Sephiroth stopped talking, a long, awkward silence filled the room.

“What are you saying,” started Genesis carefully. “Is that you practically got yourself gutted because some kid reminded you of me and you couldn’t bring yourself to kill him.”

“... yes,” was all Sephiroth said, not daring to look Genesis in the eye.

“You’re such an idiot,” he said with a sigh. That was… reckless. Unprofessional. Stupid.

 

All because of the fact that Sephiroth…

 

He shook his head, brought his fingers up to Sephiroth’s chin and guided him into the gentlest of kisses.

 

It was as if they were kissing for the first time. Tenderness had never been the part of their interactions before, but now Genesis took the careful lead, softly pressing his lips at Sephiroth’s. He brushed his fingers through the damp strands of silver hair, wishing to never again let the man in front of him get hurt. Minutes passed, and he finally pulled away, but he left his palm resting against Sephiroth’s cheek.  

 

“May I look at your injury?” he asked.

Sephiroth gave him a slow nod, and shivered when careful fingers started unwrapping the bandages. When the last piece of cloth fell down to the floor, Genesis hissed seeing the extent of the damage. The wound was stitched rather neatly, but some of the stitches apparently snapped, and the torn flesh around them started to turn purple, and yellow, stinky liquid was leaking out of the cut. Clearly there must have been an infection, and Genesis considered finding the medic responsible for this state of affairs and explaining to him a thing or two about cleaning the wounds. With a fireball, preferably.

 

He pulled up his sleeves, ready to start working, but then he hesitated.  
“May I heal it?” he asked. Use of magic for healing of such complex injuries could be quite unpleasant for the recipient of such treatment, and he was not going to do anything to Sephiroth without his explicit permission. “It will hurt.”  
“The field medic told me that little could be done with the use of materia in my case,” he frowned.

“The field medic can go hang himself for all I care,” snapped Genesis. “I’m not sure if you have noticed who you are talking to now, but I can be considered a bit more qualified in that regard.”

Sephiroth looked almost apologetic and hummed softly. Genesis was right - if there was a person capable of pulling off such a healing, it was him.

“I did not mean to offend you,” he said. “Please.”

 

Genesis nodded, an odd feeling clutching at his heart, and he moved closer to hold his hands just above the wound. A familiar tingling of magic swept through him, and he skillfully channelled the energy to examine, clean and heal. Seeing the extent of the damage, he knew that it would be a long, draining process - but he would not step back. Every once in a while he peeked at Sephiroth, looking for any signs of distress or pain, but as usually, the man did not let anything show on his face. So he worked, until the only remnant of the foolishly acquired injury was a thin, white scar.

 

Genesis let the magic stop, some of it dissipating into the air, and he suddenly felt dizzy and so, so tired. He rested his forehead at Sephiroth shoulder and smiled as the strong arms wrapped around him and held him close.

“Thank you,” said Sephiroth. He frowned slightly, concern for Genesis getting the better off him. “Are you alright? Is that a magic burn?”

“ ‘m fine,” murmured Genesis. “ ‘st tired. Give me a moment and food ‘nd t’ll be okay.”

 

Sephiroth smiled, and picked the smaller man up, pressing him close to his chest, and carried him to the kitchen.  
“You know what? It had been worth it,” he said, and a tiny smile never left his face.

“Mmm?” mumbled Genesis.  
  
“Had I known that all it takes to make you this cuddly is getting myself gutted, I would have done that much sooner.”  
  
Genesis’ head snapped up and he looked at Sephiroth, tidal waves of emotions colouring his expression.

“Promise me you won’t do that again,” he said with all seriousness, wrapping his arms more tightly around Sephiroth’s neck.

The General hummed, and placed a chaste kiss at the top of Genesis’ head.

“I promise.”  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh, took a bit longer to update than I expected. Academic writing seems to be doing awful things to my style, and this chapter required like, thrice as much editing as they usually do…  
> Also, Happy New Year to everyone!

**Author's Note:**

> If I forgot to tag something/you want me to tag it, just scream and I'll run to do so. Comments and criticism most welcome!


End file.
